


Keeping Score

by shimotsuki



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-19
Updated: 2011-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-15 18:59:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/163945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shimotsuki/pseuds/shimotsuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For <b>hedda62</b>'s prompt:  <i>Laisa meets Cavilo. Anywhere, anytime, with any result you want.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Score

“I have to ask,” said the Escobaran Presidente’s wife, leaning in and lowering her voice. “Did you really marry him of your own free will? Or were you some kind of—of—political sacrifice for Komarr?”

The _real_ political sacrifice, Laisa had decided at least an hour ago, was wasting a whole evening of their short visit to Earth on this inane reception. And Gregor wasn’t even with her tonight, thanks to certain delicate negotiations with the Tau Cetians that had run long past their scheduled timeframe.

She unclenched her teeth and smiled brightly. “Oh, I assure you, I had _every_ choice in the matter, and this was a decision I made for myself. Although I do believe that Komarr and Barrayar will best face our futures together.”

The tall, gray-haired woman did not look convinced. She was probably thinking, _there but for the grace of God go we Escobarans._

Laisa sighed. No points this time. At least she’d done better with the Betans and the Vervani.

~ * ~

“Are you _really_ an aristocrat?” breathed the wide-eyed teenaged daughter of the Minister Plenipotentiary of Pol. “High Vor?”

“I suppose I am, now.” Laisa’s bright smile was getting easier with practice. “But only because I married into it. And the Vor aren’t actually aristocrats, you know. Historically, it’s a military caste.”

“Oh.” The girl’s eyes glazed over.

That was a point scored, Laisa decided, as she nodded pleasantly and moved off in search of a glass of fruit-flavored water. Only one point, though; it was no great victory to be better at hiding boredom than this flower of Polian youth.

~ * ~

This woman, now eyeing Laisa with a speculative glint, was neither young nor particularly old. Laisa had last seen her hanging on the arm of one of the Jacksonian barons, but she hadn’t been on the list of spouses or official consorts. A date, then? Or a long-standing mistress? She was tiny, with blond hair cut in a spiky Betan style, but she exuded confidence and an undertone of cunning. She might well be a _useful_ mistress for a Jacksonian baron. Or a dangerous one, if he didn’t keep a careful eye on his House.

“So you’re the new Empress of Barrayar,” said the woman, in a voice like velvet. The kind of velvet that might be concealing a knife.

“Yes,” said Laisa blandly. “And I’m sorry, but you are—?”

The sharp eyes flashed. “I was, very nearly, the Empress of Barrayar.”

Laisa’s first thought that the woman was simply making fun of her.

But then she realized that three ImpSec guards had moved into her direct line of sight, which meant that there would be as many, or more, that she couldn’t see.

The memory clicked into place.

“Oh, why, you must be Cavilo.” Laisa took great pleasure in making _this_ smile as sweet as the maple syrup that Barrayarans put on their groats at breakfast. “Gregor has told me _ever_ so much about you.”

Cavilo was good, very good, but Laisa caught the tiniest flicker of disappointment in those hawklike eyes.

One _hundred_ points in her favor, this time.

At _least_.

~ _fin_ ~


End file.
